


To Cheat a Friend

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating Harry, I didn't even want to read this, M/M, You probably shouldn't read this, the anon who requested this is a sadist, torturous angst, with no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"We’ve</i> been through <i>a wedding and three adoptions, we’ve</i> been through <i>creating a family based on the fact that we fucking love each other-”</i><br/>“Loved,” Harry whispers, and it could kill a man.<br/>....................<br/>THE PROMPT: "Can you write an angsty Larry oneshot where Harry and Louis have kids but Harry cheats on Louis, so Louis leaves with the kids and Harry has to watch him move on and be happy?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Cheat a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Proceed with caution, man...
> 
> PS title is from the lyrics to "Never Gonna Dance Again"

 After a while it gets hard for Louis to count his blessings. It isn’t that they’re hard to think of- just the opposite in fact. So many incredible things have happened to him in his thirty-five years that it gets impossible to enumerate. How many men have a life like his? How many men get the careers of their dreams? How many men get to see the world and shake hands with royals and hear thousands of people scream their name just because they’re in your presence?

And how many men find a love like Louis’?

It scares him a little, to think of how incredibly the stars must have aligned to make his relationship with Harry possible. That they both decided to audition for the same show, and that they both got put in the same band. That Harry had the innocence Louis admired and Louis had the vibrancy Harry craved. That they could somehow be exactly what the other needed, at exactly the right time, in exactly the right place.

A love so strong that even years of closeting and fake relationships and harassment couldn’t tear it apart. And when they came out –finally, _finally!-_ even the scrutiny and judgment of seven billion people couldn’t break them. They were strong, and they powered through and ruled the world.

And then they created one of their own, with wedding rings and a mailbox with their name on it and three beautiful kids adopted into their little family. Jonah and Simon and Maggie, not theirs by blood but so intimately a part of their hearts. Not traditional, not even idyllic, but it was _theirs._

Maggie was running up to him now, her pigtails lopsided as usual because no matter how many times he redid them, there was no way to keep a six year-old’s hair tidy. “Papa!” she giggled as she ran in, leaping into Louis’ arms like he knew she would. The boys were old enough to be too cool for their dads, but Maggie was a Papa’s girl through and through.

“Hello, princess,” he said sweetly, planting a kiss on her vaguely jam-sticky face. “Did you come to see me off before I go to the studio?”

“Can I go with you, Papa?” asked Maggie with her big brown eyes. “I don’t wanna stay home today.”

“I’m going to be really busy this morning, sweetie,” Louis answered apologetically. “Why don’t you go play with the boys?”

“They’re wrestling, so I can’t play with them.”

“Did they tell you that? Baby, they’re probably just scared that you’d beat them both at once. Tell them you can wrestle if you want to!” Maggie smiles a little when he pretends to admire her nonexistent muscles, so Louis grins back at her.

But then she shook her head. “They didn’t tell me I couldn’t, Daddy did.”

“When did he say that?” Louis winced. This was sort of a regular thing- Daddy is reasonable and says no, then Papa fucks it up by saying yes without thinking. Can he help it if he likes indulging the kids?

“Yesterday, when he was wrestling with that man.”

Louis cocks his head, confused. “What do you mean, darling? What man? Where?”

For a second Maggie looks like she’s not going to say anything, playing with one of the buttons on Louis’ shirt and refusing to look him in the eye. But she’s Papa’s girl, so she speaks at last, quiet and oh so shy.

“Yesterday I was hungry and I wanted a snack and so I went to look for Daddy, and he was in the big bedroom. I walked in and he was wrestling with the man, but when I tried to ask him for a snack he got really mad and told me to get out right now. I didn’t mean to be bad,” she tacks on with wide eyes. “I didn’t know you’re not supposed to watch people wrestle.”

Louis doesn’t hear the whole last half of the speech because his heart is pounding and his whole body was a little trembly and weak. “Who was the man, darling, do you know? It’s alright, you’re not in trouble. You haven’t been bad at all, Mag, I promise. Did you recognize him?”

“No, Papa, who was he?”

“I don’t know, baby, but I’m going to find out,” Louis promised shakily. “Go- uh, go watch TV in the den for a bit, yeah?”

“But Daddy says-”

“No TV before lunch, I know. It’s alright, I’m saying yes just this once. Go on, Maggie.” Louis sets the little girl down on the carpet –just in time, probably, his arms feel like they’re maybe not working at full capacity –and watches her skip to the den before making his way upstairs to the master bedroom.

His heart is pounding. It can’t be right, because that’s absolutely fucking stupid. Kids get shit wrong sometimes, and Maggie just got it wrong, that’s all. That has to be it, because if what he’s thinking is true…

 _No._ It can’t be. Not Harry, not the boy who he’s loved for seventeen years without skipping a single day. Not Harry, who’s the Daddy to his children, who saw the world with him, who _ruled_ the world with him. Maybe if it were anyone else, this could be true, but _not his Harry._

And it’s such a stupid thought that when Louis opens the door to their bedroom he almost shuts it again and walks back downstairs and goes to catch up to his husband at work. It’s what he should do, because there’s probably some really fucking stupid explanation for all of this and he’s going to feel like an absolute twat when he figures it out.

And he doesn’t even know what he’s fucking looking for, anyways, when he continues to walk in and start tearing apart the room. A flashing neon sign? A convenient nanny cam that was recording yesterday while Louis was in his business meeting? A goddamn clue about why this idea was even in his head right now? A-

A used condom in the trashcan.

If this were a movie, Louis would fall to his knees and cradle his head in his hands, staring at the family photograph on the bedside table because he and Harry haven’t used condoms since they were teenagers and realized there was no point to using protection when the entire world revolved around the two of them. There was a condom in his bedroom and it did not come from him, and that was probably worth a few theatrical anguished moans.

But this was not a movie, it was real life, and Louis’ children were playing downstairs with the babysitter, and he had to be at downtown in half an hour. So Louis just turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and went to kiss the kids goodbye. Then he grabbed his coat, got in the car, and went to work.

He didn’t say anything all day. Not just about what he’d found, but not much of anything at all. He gives the artists in the Stylinson Production Co. booths the guidance they need, and he prompts the sound techs to adjust this slider and that knob, and he doesn’t talk to his partner in life and business. He’s just quiet.

He’s quiet when he comes home, too, when he parks his car next to Harry’s and goes inside to check that all the kids are safe in bed and sound asleep. They are, and he’s quiet as he makes his way back to the master bedroom. Quiet.

Harry’s laying on the bed on top of the covers, ankles crossed and one arm lazily behind his head as the other pointed the remote at the telly and flipped through channels. “Hey, Lou,” he says when Louis enters and closes the door behind him.

Louis is quiet. He hardly makes a sound, in fact, as he crosses the room, picks up the trashcan, and dumps the contents on Harry’s lap.

“What the fuck?!” Harry yelps, unable to do more than stare at his husband in absolute shock.

And then Louis can’t be quiet anymore, so he’s yelling. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Harry! ‘What the fuck!’ As in what the _fuck_ is _that?”_ One thin finger is pointing to the soggy condom on Harry’s knee, and tremble though it may there is nothing but steadiness in the accusation.

There isn’t even some cinematic moment of horror where Harry realizes what’s staring them both in the face. No instant where his life flashes before his eyes and he remembers getting careless with the evidence. Nothing so poetic. There’s just a pause and a couple of slow blinks and a simple, “Oh.”

“‘Oh?’” echoes Louis, a bitter laugh welling in his chest. “You’re sleeping with someone else and all you can say is ‘oh?’”

“What do you want me to say, Lou?” Harry asks wearily.

“I want you to tell me it isn’t fucking true!” Louis shouts, his voice cracking even though he desperately wants it not to. “I want you to tell me that this is some fucking sick joke and there’s a camera crew about to jump out and make an ass out of me!”

Harry doesn’t tell him that.

“How long?”

“Louis-”

“How fucking long, Harry?” seethed Louis. At least yesterday, obviously, since our fucking _six year-old_ walked in on you with your cock in some other guy’s arse. Is that a normal thing? Hmm? You let the kids run around and do their own thing and and you fuck some bloke in the bed we sleep in together?”

Harry’s brow pulls together in anger. “Don’t act like I’m a bad father, I never meant for her to- I didn’t know she was going to walk in! The door was supposed to be locked-”

“Harry, that is not the fucking _point!_ The point is that you are _cheating on me!_ Jesus fucking Christ,” he sobbed, no longer to hold back the tears pushing at his eyes. It’s all he can do to keep talking past the grit of his teeth and the iron band around his lungs. “Oh my god. You fucked _me_ last night. Guess I should be glad you wore a condom with him, at least, right?”

“This isn’t about you, Louis,” Harry said firmly, brushing the trash -the evidence -off his lap and standing before him. “It was one time, one fucking mistake-”

“Oh, so much of a mistake that you acted like everything was okay? So much of a mistake that five hours later you came inside of me and told me you loved me and neglected to tell me that you’re fucking around? Don’t you _fucking_ patronize me, Harry!”

“I’m not ‘fucking around,’ okay?” Harry fired back. “We still fuck and we still sleep in the same bed, but you and I have been over for a long time, Louis, and you know it!”

But Louis doesn’t, and it makes him feel like he’s been punched in the chest. “Ov- over? Harry, what the hell are you talking about?”

“We’re different people, Louis,” says Harry quietly. “We fell in love when we were stupid teenagers, you can’t honestly expect that things are still the same after all we’ve been through.”

“This has to be a dream. This is one gigantic fucking nightmare.” Louis is almost numb, except he can feel his heart breaking. “What we’ve _been through_ is the career of our dreams, and surviving five years of closeting. We’ve _been through_ a wedding and three adoptions, we’ve _been through_ creating a family based on the fact that we fucking love each other-”

“Loved,” Harry whispers, and it could kill a man.

“So what? So you realize we’re different people, and you fall out of love, and what? You decide that instead of trying to save your family you’ll just go out and find somebody new and destroy it in the process?” Louis scrubs his cheek with the back of one sleeve and tries to be strong. It isn’t working very well.

“I said it was a mistake,” Harry answered with tears of his own in his eyes. “I’ve never done anything like that before, I just… I met him in a bar and there was a spark and I- I wasn’t thinking. Honestly. And I never meant to hurt you-”

Louis chokes on the words, “Well you fucking did.”

“Louis-”

“Don’t touch me!” Louis shouts when Harry steps forward. “Don’t you fucking touch me! You can’t sit there and tell me that you don’t love me anymore and then expect that you can just hug me and make it all better.”

“Lou, please, listen to me,” Harry pleads. “I’m still your best friend. I still don’t want to see you hurting. I just can’t- I just can’t love you anymore.”

If this were a movie, Louis would be too broken to move, or maybe he would be so broken that he had to smash all the picture frames and the furniture and Harry’s beautiful face. But this isn’t a movie, and Louis is just broken enough to give a final, firm, “Get the fuck out.”

“Louis. I’m not going to leave. I’m not going to leave you like this-”

“Fine, then I’m leaving,” Louis spits back, trying not to let his mouth open too much in case the tears start coming for real, because he’s a little afraid that they’ll never stop. “I’m taking the kids, and I’m fucking leaving.”

“You can’t do that-”

“No, you stop that right there!” Louis spun around and stood up as straight as he could to look right in the eye of the man that he loves but who only _used_ to love him. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. You lost that right when you decided to destroy this marriage and this family. So you’re going to sit your ass down and let me walk out of here. Do you understand?”

Harry sat.

Maggie’s room was the closest, but her door was open and she wasn’t inside. Louis’ heart sunk with understanding, though it felt like it was already dragging on the floor. Simon’s room was empty, too. It was in Jonah’s room that he found them, with the eldest sitting on his bed looking as stoic as an eleven year-old can as he keeps one sibling under each protective arm. Eight is old enough for Simon to pretend that he isn’t crying, even though Louis can see red eyes in the nightlight glow. Maggie’s stuffed unicorn is openly stained with tears.

“Hey, guys,” Louis said gently, kneeling before the bed. “You alright? I’m sorry we woke you guys up.”

“You and Daddy were shouting really loudly,” said Jonah fiercely. It’s an accusation, because he is the big brother and that makes him the protector of the small even if there’s a little tremble to his bottom lip that no amount of bravado can hide. “It woke up Simon and Maggie.”

“I know, buddy, and I’m really sorry about that,” Louis said, his voice raw. “Can you lot do something for me though? The four of us are going to go on a little trip tonight, so I need you guys to get your coats and shoes on, okay? I’m going to fill your backpacks up with all the other stuff we’ll need.”

“Daddy isn’t coming?” whispers Meggie into her stuffie.

Louis inhales, exhales, tries hard not to let his voice shake. “No baby, it’s just us four tonight. Okay? Be a good girl for Papa and go get your coat and shoes like I asked.”

It takes a minute, but all three get up to obey, and Louis collects backpacks and starts mechanically shoving things in. Toys. Clothes. Underwear. He hopes that he hasn’t forgotten anything. Harry’s usually the one who does the packing, Louis is so shit at it-

But he has to be enough now, because there are three beautiful, trusting little faces looking up at him in the lobby and he’s what they’ve got for the moment. Jonah is gripping Maggie’s hand and Maggie is gripping her stuffie. Simon is tugging at Louis’ coat and looking too small and too scared. “Is everything okay, Papa?”

Louis can’t answer, because he has to either say ‘no’ or lie to his son. Instead he just tells a very strong truth. “You guys are going to be alright, you hear me?” he says firmly, crouching down so he’s more or less at their level. He needs to look them in the eye on this one. “I promise you that I will take care of you and I will make sure that you’re alright, no matter what. Okay?”

Jonah nods, which means Simon nods, and Maggie nods along, too. “Hold your sister’s hand while we go down the steps, please,” Louis says softly to Jonah, and takes Simon’s small fingers in his own. They don’t talk any more as they all pile into the SUV and Louis backs out on his way to somewhere that he hasn’t bothered to think about yet but is definitely not here.

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis thinks he sees a silhouette in the upstairs window, but he makes it a point not to look back.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end of this piece, I would like to advise you to google masochism and then research mental health counselors in your area. Either that or you're my friend and trying to support me, in which case you should probably find a better friend.
> 
> I'm so sorry guys my bad
> 
> canonlarry | tumblr


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